


Poor, Poor Baby

by MAWgirl2000



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby, Bobby SInger - Freeform, Brothers, Humor, Hunters, Impala, John Winchester - Freeform, Kansas, Motels, O/s - Freeform, One Shot, One-Shot, Winchester Brothers - Freeform, Winchesters - Freeform, hunts, impala ‘67, sam and dean - Freeform, spray paint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:12:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15747765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MAWgirl2000/pseuds/MAWgirl2000
Summary: Sam was supposed to paint protective sigils on Baby, not defile her.





	Poor, Poor Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I keep seeing this mentioned on twitter and IG, so I—finally—decided to write a little something with it.

Sam walks in motel room and shuts the door. He sets the plastic shopping bag on his bed, and shrugs off his jacket, leaving him in just a blue and green plaid flannel. Dean comes out of the bathroom; he towels his hair dry as he speaks with Sam.

“Did’ya get it done?” He asks his brother.

Sam nods but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t quite know how to tell Dean that they were out of the ‘usual things,’ so he went with what he could find, which is sure to piss off his older brother.

Dean slips into a pair of faded dark jeans, and then proceeds to slip a green flannel over his black t-shirt. He grabs his car keys, not at all thrilled about this hunt they’re on.

“You ready to go?” He asks; Sam nods.

Dean leads the way out, only to stop short, causing Sam to run into his back.

“Dude!” Sam grumbles.

Dean doesn’t say anything, he just stares straight ahead at his beloved car.

What the hell has Sam done?!

He slowly turns to face his brother, glaring daggers at him.

Sam eyes him. “What?” He asks defensively.

“Really, Sam? First you insist on drawin’ on Baby, but now she’s wearin’ pink? Seriously?” Dean fumes.

Sam shrugs helplessly.

“They were outta red.”

Dean rolls his eyes.

His poor, defiled car, which is so much more than just a vehicle. She’s Baby, she’s his girl, they’re home.

“Baby is not a pink sportin’ kinda girl, Sam!”

Now it’s Sam’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Don’t worry Dean, it’ll wash off.”

“Yeah, you’d better hope it does!”

Sam snorts. Dean and his attachment to that car never ceases to amaze him.


End file.
